Who at one time doesn't feel like they resemble this painting by Edvard Munch? Internally or externally? It certainly does appear that the subject is losing his mind. However, that wasn't the actual interpretation the artist himself had of the work... but its my interpretation and I'm sticking with it. The Scream is from a school of Expressionist painters and was done sometime around 1863. Munch created the painting long before Sigmund Freud came on the scene. Had Freud established his psychological theory, I'm sure he would have had a thing or two to say about this piece of art!
I feel I am beginning to resemble the person in the picture. I feel like I am losing my grip on reality and I am sinking fast into an abyss. I am desperately trying to shut out the the cacophony of my thoughts, because they are absolutely making no sense to me anymore and they are interrupting my life. I place my hands over my ears and I simply cannot shut out the noise. I hear the same admonishing words over and over again. "You are such an idiot? How could have you done that?" It makes me feel sick. I keep asking myself the same unanswered questions. What? Why? Jesus? Are you nuts? My behaviors are interfering with my daily activities. Hard as I may try, my reality seems to be slipping away. Lucky for me, I have an extensive collection of psychology books and the updated Diagnostic Statistical Manual for diagnostic mental health treatment plans laying around. Thus, I am pretty sure I am able to diagnose myself: it would appear from the symptoms that I am suffering from an Anxiety Disorder.
I have always been slightly over the edge. Nothing too serious. If I were a dog, I would probably be a Boarder Collie. I am just so hyper that no amount of exercise or work will ever tire me out. I could herd sheep in perfect order all day long, catch a million flying disks thrown at me and stare into space waiting for more. But I'm not a dog. I am a woman. I am so competent, focused and conscientious its even driving me crazy. I can't relax. I want everything to be perfect. I am short-tempered and over-compensating. I am actually ruining my life.
The cause of these behaviors are obviously acute stress and a little bit of a guilty conscience. I have various stressors that I can't seem to cope with. Financial worries, an eating disorder, college, and a dysfunctional marriage. Of course, we all have stressors in our life, but evidently I do not have the necessary skills to manage them. So, from time to time, I freak out and say and do things I regret. Then, I have to pace around wracked with guilt trying to figure out a way to clean up all my messes and try and repair all the damage done to relationships.
|I'M A WRECK|
We all have plenty of neurotic friends and family members that we are willing to forgive and forget...but I don't think I am that lucky. My friends and family seem to expect a lot more out me and I know that I am letting them down. It's horrible when I think how I have allowed my emotions to get the best of me and I can't even find a way to control them. I know all of this, and yet...I wish I could write myself a huge prescription for Xanax.
In various treatment programs for drug and alcohol abuse (of which I have neither), the first step in recovery is letting go and letting God and admitting that you are powerless. I admit to and fully accept the consequences of my actions, but I need to purge myself in writing and just put it "out there". I have written poems and journals and song lyrics, hoping that it would take away some of my pain. It hasn't. I remain a really pretty picture on the outside. Inside is The Scream.
|MODERN ART! PICASSO-Y|
I know I am loved, but I also know I've been kind of shitty to people who have meant a great deal to me. Please understand this and if I am ever shitty to you in the future, just slap me and call me out on it. I don't mean it. I am probably just transferring (a coping skill). And to those of you that have had the misfortune of seeing me at my worst, I will be coming around to apologize. I don't expect you to like me, but please just try and forgive me. Peace.